


Lie Back and Think of Asgard

by ravenbringslight



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Attempt at Humor, Blow Jobs, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Feelings Realization, Frottage, Good Loki, He's still a sarcastic little shit though, Loki is a Good Bro, Loki tries to help, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Sibling Incest, Smut, Thor has boner issues, Threesome, Vaginal Sex, fertility gods who can't get it up, marriage for heirs, platonic marriage, when they're not trying to make babies anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-04 07:06:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10271021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenbringslight/pseuds/ravenbringslight
Summary: Thor marries Freya of Vanaheim to secure their political alliance and produce heirs. What they weren't counting on is Thor's inability to, shall we say,performin the marital bed. Thor enlists Loki's magical aid, which doesn't remain magical for very long.NOTE: This is very much a Loki/Thor story with the flimsiest of excuses to get them in bed together, so don't let the Freya/Thor tag dissuade you.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ~~This is a terrible title and I am extremely open to alternative suggestions.~~ Thanks for the suggestion, Stories!
> 
> I hope you have as much fun reading as I had writing! :D You can follow me at <https://raven-brings-light.tumblr.com/>.

“Who is it?” Loki said peevishly. This was the third time this morning he’d sat down for breakfast, the first two times being interrupted by one of his experiments bubbling over on his workbench and a particularly enthusiastic crow on his windowsill respectively. In fact he had only a moment ago finished chasing the crow away and had finally arranged himself at the table again, cutlery positioned just so, napkin lined up precisely along his lap, mug turned so the handle faced outward at exactly the right angle for his reaching palm, and he was juuust about to inhale the lovely scent of the sugared violet tart in front of him when he was rudely interrupted by a loud banging on his chamber door.

“Brother, it’s me!” Thor’s voice was muffled through the thick wood but Loki heard the lack of manners in it all the same. He huffed in annoyance.

“Can’t you go away until I’m done eating?”

“Brother, it’s urgent!”

Loki rolled his eyes and rose for the third time.

“Good morning to you too, brother,” he said as Thor bulled his way into the room. “What is this urgent matter?” Thor paced the room with uncharacteristic agitation, tugging at his hair, looking at the floor, at the ceiling, anywhere but at Loki. Loki crossed his arms and waited.

“If you don’t mind, my tea is getting cold -”

“Tea!” Thor cried, whirling. “Who can think of tea right now!”

“Sit down, you’re making me seasick with all that pacing. Not on the bed, I've only just made it! Honestly.”

Thor sat down at the edge of one of Loki’s benches, bouncing his knee and all but wringing his hands. He looked positively woeful.

“Might this have to do with your new bride?” Loki inquired, trying to prod him along. Thor had been married a fortnight ago to Freya of Vanaheim, a political alliance that both sides hoped would produce many heirs. It probably would; Freya was renowned as a goddess of fertility and Thor was no slouch in that regard himself. Population booms tended to follow in his wake when he visited the common folk, his mere presence causing twice as many babes to be born to people and beasts alike in a ten-mile radius, the latter of which never failed to make Thor’s cheeks redden and Loki snicker. _“They should call you the god of cow fucking,”_ Loki would laugh, ducking while Thor roared and swiped at him.

But in any case, Loki had not seen Thor since the wedding, choosing to keep a wide berth of Thor’s chambers so he didn’t have to hear the sounds of any fucking, cow or otherwise. It seemed only logical that for Thor to be beating his door down now, it must have something to do with Freya.

“Yes,” Thor said miserably, but then clammed up again. Aggravating. Loki’s tea was growing colder by the minute.

“What about her?” Loki asked, as he might ask a recalcitrant child. He thought longingly of his still-waiting tart, how the delicate violet petals would crunch so pleasantly between his teeth, how the shortbread crust would crumble so invitingly... He was so caught up in his daydream he almost missed Thor’s mumbled explanation.

“...been unsuccessful.” Thor’s cheeks were beet red.

“Excuse me?” said Loki.

“It’s not for lack of trying!” Thor cried.

“You’ve been holed up with Freya for _two weeks_ and you’ve been unable to consummate the marriage?”

Thor could only nod painfully.

“It...it will not rouse. And Freya...she does not grow slick and receptive, perhaps because I have been so lacking as a lover. Brother, you cannot tell anyone else…”

Loki felt a strange sort of glee seize him. It was just too incredibly funny. Two fertility gods, and between the both of them they couldn’t manage to get it up. A giggle escaped his throat, which turned into a guffaw, which turned into a gale of laughter that rang from the rafters.

Thor put his head in his hands and seemed to shrink in on himself.

“I just don’t understand,” he said. “I’ve never had a problem before.”

“Oh, well I know,” said Loki, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “In our youth we slept our way through half the taverns of Asgard.”

“And other realms besides,” Thor said, finally cracking a smile.

“And other realms besides,” Loki agreed, thinking on an especially pleasant week they had spent in a brothel on Vanaheim two centuries ago; it had involved several eager-to-please maidens and a few strapping young men as well, and even a dryad and a satyr if he recalled correctly...and the implements, he’d had no idea the Vanir had such inventive ways to employ their glass blowers…

“I promise not to tell anyone, brother. Certainly. I would definitely never compose a skadic verse about it and accidentally sing it in a bard’s presence…”

“LOKI!” Thor roared, obviously appalled, and Loki nearly collapsed laughing again.

“Truly, brother, I won’t tell. But why come to me?”

“I was hoping...I was hoping you could come up with some sort of spell. To help it...rouse.”

“Come, Thor, use your words.” Thor glared at him and Loki smiled broadly. “Tell me exactly what it is you would like me to do. Be as explicit as possible, please.”

Thor looked ready to choke. “Brother. Loki. Please will you use your magic to...stiffen my cock. So that I can...fuck my wife.”

Loki smiled again, so widely his cheeks hurt, and he was sure that if he could see his own face he would look like the cat who ate the cream.

“That’s better, brother. What do I get in return?”

“What do you - what do you get? Are you jesting with me?”

“Do I look to be jesting?” Loki said, putting his hands behind his back and bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Because I’m really not.”

“You get my undying love and affection.”

“Pfaw. I have that already.”

“You get...my horse?”

“I already have a horse.”

“You get…”

“Take my place in council meetings for the next month. No, the next year.”

Thor paled. Council meetings were one of the most deadly boring things in the entirety of the Nine Realms, quite literally; once an old white-haired councillor had come down with such a fit of ennui in the middle of an especially dreary session that he had actually given up the will to live and expired purposefully in his seat.

“Not that,” he said miserably.

“Yes that.”

Thor gazed at the window wistfully like he thought jumping out of it might be preferable to either dealing with his marital dysfunction or attending a year’s worth of council meetings. “...Deal,” he said finally.

“Excellent. Now leave. My breakfast isn’t going to eat itself.” 

Loki chivvied Thor towards the door and closed it in his protesting face. At last. He turned back towards the table.

That thrice-bedamned crow was sitting on the windowsill again.

“CAW!” it screeched. “CAW CAW CAWCAWCA-”

Loki made an inarticulate noise and flicked his fingers and the crow rocketed off the windowsill like it had been punted, the shutters slamming shut behind it so hard they rattled.

Loki finally sat down to eat in his newly Thorless, silent, and dark room. He was right. The damned tea had gone cold.

***

“Here,” Loki said the next day, dropping a golden ring into Thor’s palm. “I’ve enchanted this ring. Wear it the next time you do your duty for Asgard and undoubtedly you’ll rise to the occasion, so to speak.”

Thor stammered out a litany of thank yous, groveling so beautifully that Loki had a hard time not basking too smugly... Ok, just the right amount of smugly... Fine, he was an excellent sorcerer and an even better brother, thank you very much. He preened.

A few days later, Loki celebrated his newly free afternoon by bathing luxuriously in one of the palace’s scented pools, popping chocolates into his mouth as he was massaged and oiled and had his nails groomed and lacquered by a bevy of bath attendants. He relaxed so aggressively that he felt like he might need to relax from relaxing, so it was almost a relief when he was finally interrupted.

“Brother!” Thor cried, barging into the baths like a great sweaty aurochs. He stopped short at the sight of Loki lounging on a chaise with wine goblet in hand, loosely wrapped in a shimmering green robe, freshly scrubbed and glistening and redolent of fragrant oils... his hair curling damply around his face in wavy tendrils... Thor’s eyes raked across Loki and then jumped away, flighty. Loki knew he looked good; he worked hard at it. It was nice to see Thor appreciating the effort.

“Come to thank me again?” he asked, taking a sip from his goblet. It was blue icewine from Alfheim, very exclusive, and he rolled it around his mouth to savor its glacial sweetness before swallowing. “You needn’t bother -”

“No, brother, it has not worked!” Thor said, tearing his eyes away from Loki’s throat.

Curious. Loki waved the attendants away and they sketched quick bows before withdrawing. He leaned forward and regarded Thor seriously.

“Has not worked? Tell me.”

“It only rises halfway, at best,” Thor said, cheeks reddening like last time. It looked fetching with his golden coloring; Loki made note at once to strive to make Thor blush more often.

“And I assume that in addition to my magical aid you’ve tried all the usual preparations? Manual stimulation, mouths, and so on?”

“I’m not an idiot,” Thor grumbled.

“And Freya, you find her attractive?”

“She is well enough,” Thor allowed. “I might prefer if she were a trifle taller. Maybe her hair darker? Her breasts not quite so large…?” He frowned thoughtfully. “But anyway, it has been...some years since I have lain with a woman. I have simply been too busy... What if…” he trailed off. “What if it’s broken?” he finished in a horrified whisper. “Or cursed?”

Loki tried very hard not to laugh but he felt the corners of his mouth tugging upward. “You’re a god in the prime of his life, I highly doubt it’s broken. Being cursed is a possibility. But my spell should really counteract both of these things.”

“Maybe your spell is weakened by distance from you?” Thor said desperately.

“Once again, I highly doubt it.”

“But could that be possible?”

“I suppose it is within the realm of things allowable by reality.”

Thor turned the full force of his pleading blue eyes on Loki, looking for all the world like a mournful puppy begging for table scraps. “Brother, please. Would you...would you come to my chambers tomorrow night? You can stay in the sitting room! You needn’t be in the bedroom! And then you can monitor the spell!”

Loki stared at him in surprise, blinking. He would have as soon expected Thor to start barking like a seal as utter those particular words together in that particular order.

“What about Freya? How does she feel about the idea of me in the next room?”

“She is as desperate as I am! Please. It will be like the old days, back when we used to take our pleasure in adjacent tavern rooms. It is not as though we have never heard one another in the throes of passion.” Thor looked pitifully eager.

Loki considered the proposition. On the one hand, this was quickly becoming a lot more involved than he had bargained for. On the other…

“Fine. But in addition to attending my council meetings you must also wait on me hand and foot any time I should request it. Oh, and you can call me “my lord” while you do it. AND you owe me an extremely large favor, which I can redeem at any time I wish.”

“Yes, yes,” Thor said hurriedly. “Whatever you want. I give my word.”

“Well now that that’s settled, would you like to try this sugar scrub, brother? It does wonders for the complexion…”

***

And so it was that the next night Loki found himself entering Thor’s chambers after dinner. Freya greeted his knock, opening the door with a smile so bright that Loki was almost surprised that it didn’t actually illuminate the hallway behind him. Freya was beautiful - short, blonde, ample of both hip and bosom, with a plump bottom and an earnest face. Loki had met her a few times before, and he had seen her at the wedding naturally, and he had witnessed men and women both swoon when she turned her full attention on them. Loki could not imagine what Thor’s problem was with such a creature gracing his bed. _”Well enough”_ he had called her. Maybe his cock _was_ cursed.

“May I call you brother?” she asked as she ushered him inside. “I know we don’t know each other very well yet, but I do hope that we will become closer…”

“Well, I do suppose that we’re family now.”

“Then you must call me sister as well,” she enthused, dimpling sweetly. “Thank you so much for lending your expertise to our problem. And your _discretion_.”

“Think nothing of it,” Loki said airily. “Watching Thor prostrate himself at my feet has been much reward in itself.”

Freya laughed and it sounded like the tinkling of bells. 

“Brother, you came!” Thor boomed from the other room. He appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, nude to the waist, his broad shoulders spanning nearly the entire width of the doorframe. He did cut a very fine figure. That is, if one were into acres and acres of rippling... golden…...hair. Rippling golden hair. Yes.

It suddenly occurred to Loki that there were two beautiful shining gods standing in front of him, both perfect specimens of loveliness, and they were enlisting _his_ help - to raise the tent pole; to charm the one-eyed snake; to encourage the twig-and-berries...ok, the log-and-apples… A sudden coughing fit overtook him.

“Are you alright?” Freya asked solicitously.

“I’m fine,” Loki wheezed.

“Shall we begin, then?” Thor asked anxiously.

“Thank you again, brother dear,” Freya said, patting Loki’s hand as she moved to join Thor in the bedroom.

Loki paced a tiny bit, giving them a few moments to start, compulsively tidying Thor’s sitting room as he went, properly arranging the couch cushions, adjusting the position of knickknacks so that it didn’t look like a child had placed them, moving dirty boots off the rug to sit by the door...honestly Thor... The fire was putting out more heat than the spring night warranted, so he took off his leather jerkin and folded it neatly into thirds. He kept his back to the bedroom door but he could hear them through it clear enough, so when the giggles finally turned a little more breathy he closed his eyes and sent out a questing thread of seidr.

The enchanted ring glowed green in his witch-sight but nothing seemed awry with the spell he had imbued it with. He turned his attention next to Thor. There was Thor’s lightning-seidr thrumming electric under his skin, a tracery of molten silver, pulsating and twisting with the barely contained fury of the storm. It was a wonder that Thor’s body could hold it all in. Loki shivered pleasantly as his seidr brushed across it, little bursts of sparks blooming down his spine and into his throat and chest. He imagined his hair floating in a cloud of static around him and was mildly disappointed to find that it wasn’t.

The softer golden halo of Thor’s fertility magic clung to him in gentle wisps, almost muted in comparison. Loki lingered for a bit, just to make sure there was definitely not an illness or a curse. Nothing at all to do with admiring the interplay of silver and gold, lightning and lust, deluge and fecundity...

He loosened the neck of his wrap-around shirt, tugging it open nearly to the navel. The fire really was exceedingly warm. What simpleton had built such a raging inferno on such a mild evening?

Reluctantly he moved his attention to Freya, but there was naught but a pleasant rosy glow that upon closer inspection turned out to be her own fertility magic.

It was apparent that Thor was still having _difficulties_ however and he heard the growl of frustration from the other room. Thor's footsteps sounded angry and clomping as he came to darken the doorway again, tugging his pants up. His mouth was already open to say something, but at that moment his eyes fell on Loki and whatever it was was lost forever to the mists of time as it died in his throat.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Loki said. He was sure his cheeks were flushed. Really, he should have put that fire out ages ago. 

“Like what?” Thor said, almost absently. His gaze had not shifted an inch and Loki felt physically pinned in place by it. He gulped.

“Like you haven't eaten in a week,” Loki said carefully. He was suddenly acutely aware of his partial undress. 

“Oh,” said Thor.

“Oh,” said Loki. His eyes flicked to Thor’s crotch. “ _Oh_.”

“Shit,” Thor said succinctly.

His erection was impossible to ignore. The erection that he had been unable to obtain in weeks of foreplay with his wife. The erection that eluded even magical assistance. The erection that apparently sprang to life instantly the moment he saw his brother simply standing there looking like a wanton.

“Well, get back in there!” Loki cried.

Thor spun on his heel and slammed the door behind him.

Loki fled.

***

For the next week, Loki studiously avoided any part of the palace where he thought Thor might possibly turn up. The stables were right out, as were the training grounds. The dining hall, obviously. And while he was at it, the library, which Thor normally detested, but where he was afraid Thor might come looking for him. The throne room, ye gods, of course. The hallways, naturally, because Thor couldn’t get anywhere without taking to the hallways. Which left Loki…

In his rooms. 

He read through all the books on his shelves. He got around to five different experiments he had been putting off. He tried something new with his hair. He even, desperate for company, set out corn on the windowsill for the crow.

How long was an appropriate amount of time, exactly, to avoid your brother after accidentally giving him a hard-on? Well he'd tried to _purposefully_ give him a hard-on, but it was the accidental one that was really worrying here.

At night he would lay down in the middle of his four poster bed, tugging the draperies so they hung just so, and tuck himself into the silk sheets with a long suffering sigh. He would close his eyes.

Thor was staring at him.

He would get up and pace, brew himself a sleeping draught, read the most boring scrolls he could find, treatises on tax reformations and so forth. Satisfied that he had at last tired himself out adequately, he would lay down again.

Thor was still staring at him.

He would get up and tend the fire, monitor his experiments, take down meticulous notes. He would wash his face. Rearrange his shelves. At last, ready to drop from exhaustion, he would climb back into bed.

Thor would not stop staring at him.

By the third day, a funny feeling had taken root in the pit of Loki’s stomach. He could not name it if asked, but it left him feeling restless, tight around the collar, a stranger in his own skin. He flung himself down on the bed with atypical disregard for how it mussed the blankets and clutched a pillow to his breast. He tore at his hair, raked his fingers across his face, up his thighs...down his stomach…

His hand brushed his own cock and he moaned slightly. His eyes fell shut as he stroked himself.

Thor stared at him with the intensity of a thousand suns. “No,” Loki whined as he came with the same level of intensity.

Shit.

***

Thor finally came knocking on Loki’s door seven excruciating days later.

Loki affected nonchalance. Surely they’d done stranger things in their lives than become attracted to each other and then pretend everything was normal. He couldn’t recall any precisely, just now, but surely…

Thor looked as discomfited as Loki felt. “Good morning, brother,” he said solemnly.

Loki’s tone was brisk. “Well, at least your manners have improved since the last time you pounded my door down. Good morning.”

“We have not spoken since... I wanted to ask you if your witch-sight had turned up anything amiss. Last week.”

“If you’re asking if you or Freya are cursed, the answer is no.”

“Oh thank the gods,” Thor sighed, his shoulders relaxing. They tensed up again just as quickly. “But that means…”

“I have two hypotheses, if you care to hear them. Yes? The first is that it’s all in your mind, that the sheer importance of producing heirs has stressed you to the point where desire is impossible.”

“I see. And the second?”

“You and Freya both have fertility magic, but it operates in very different ways. Yours is a force of virility, while hers is a force of gravidity. So your magic is, in effect, attempting to strengthen her nonexistent seed, while hers is trying to enrich your nonexistent womb.”

Thor looked taken aback. “So our magics may cancel each other out?”

“In incredibly simplistic terms, yes.”

“Then...how was I able to...when I saw you…” 

Oh, so they weren’t pretending, then. Loki ignored the internal screaming and shrugged with deliberate casualness.

“I…” Thor trailed off. “First, I would offer my apology. I asked too much of you and my own behavior was shameful at best.”

“Quite,” Loki managed.

“And... I would not ask this if it weren’t of the utmost importance to the realm itself…”

Loki felt his stomach squirm. Some gibbering joined the screaming in his head as it ratcheted up a notch. Surely Thor could hear it.

“...but your presence has been the only thing that has helped. I could not...sustain it after you left. And I thought...well, Freya and I thought...perhaps you might...come back that we might try again?” Thor looked ready to die of shame. The screaming abruptly stopped and Loki felt himself run hot and then cold. The gall! Using his presence as a sex aid! It was outrageous, it was unthinkable, it was so incredibly beyond the pale…!

“Very well,” he heard a voice say, as if from a great distance, and was shocked to realize it was his own.

Double shit.

***

Later on, as Loki stood in the corner of Thor’s bedchamber watching him disrobe, he reflected on the utter absurdity that billions of years ago the universe had sprung into life, its innumerable particles set in motion in nearly infinite combinations, birthing and destroying the very stars to create new elements, some atoms of which had coalesced in such a specific way as to produce the scenario he currently found himself in at this very instant.

“I’m going to need a drink,” he said. “Actually, I think we all need drinks.”

He poured them each a tumbler from the spirits on the sideboard.

“Skål!” Freya said, a little too merrily for Loki’s taste. How was she in such a good mood about all this? This was weird, and probably wrong, and dear Norns _Thor was naked_. The liquor burned all the way down and he quickly tossed back another.

“Relax,” Freya said gently, taking the glass from his hand. “We're all adults here. Adults who are doing our duty.” She was addressing both of them now. “And if any of us manages to eke some pleasure out of it, it's ok. It's fine.” 

“You seem remarkably level-headed about this,” Loki said. He carefully did not look at Thor's cock.

“I've been around the block a few times, sweetie. Thor told me about your idea of our competing magic. This hasn't been any more fun for me than it has for my poor husband. I like Thor, and I like you, and between the three of us we're going to make this work.”

“My wife is as wise as she is beautiful,” Thor smiled. Freya dimpled at him and tapped him on the nose. Loki wished devoutly for a convenient sinkhole to open up and swallow them all.

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Thor cast a nervous glance at Loki and then leaned down to kiss Freya. 

So, they were starting now.

Loki retrieved his glass and downed a third drink. Thor slipped the strap of Freya’s shift off her shoulder and kissed along her collarbone, drawing a pleased hum. She skimmed her hands across his chest, drawing his nipples into tight little buds.

The fire was banked low, casting shifting shadows over their naked flesh, making it seem to dance with every movement. It didn't help the feeling of unreality that Loki was experiencing. He ran his hand over his hair. They really were gorgeous, both of them. He couldn't tear his eyes away.

Thor and Freya were both attentive lovers, kissing and caressing, nipping and coaxing. Freya fell to her knees and took Thor, still soft, into her mouth.

Thor let out a tiny groan and cast his eyes desperately on Loki, who was still staring, transfixed. Their gazes locked like magnets.

It was now or never.

Slowly, purposefully, Loki brought two fingers to his mouth and sucked, his tongue running wetly over the first two knuckles in a pantomime of what Freya was doing to Thor's cock.

She let out a little “ooh!” of pleasure and surprise as Thor came to life in her mouth. Loki felt his own breathing quicken. He let his fingers trail down his own chest, pulling on the lace that let his shirt fall open. Thor's eyes tracked every movement. His attention was heady. Having power over his powerful brother like this was intoxicating and Loki suddenly craved more of it.

Freya took Thor's hand and drew him to the bed. “Quickly,” she said, kissing him, breaking his eye contact with Loki. She pushed him onto his back and straddled him, but when she tried to sink onto his cock it had already lost half its strength.

Thor looked ready to sob in frustration.

“Shh,” Loki said, moving to the side of the bed. He reached out and stroked Thor's cheek with the back of his hand. “Sweet Thor.” Thor made a noise in the back of his throat. “I'm here,” Loki whispered, and he leaned down and kissed his brother full on the lips.

It started softly, almost tenderly, Thor bringing his hand up to cup Loki's cheek. But then Freya was moving over him, and as their hips rocked together Thor's kisses became greedy, demanding, his tongue dancing against Loki's, and they drank each other's sighs and moans. And then Thor and Freya were moving together in earnest, Freya making soft little sounds of pleasure, and Loki shoved his pants down and took himself in his hand, and Thor and Loki were tearing at each other's lips with the fierceness of hundreds of years of pent up rivalry and passion and love and lust, and they became two entities instead of three, Thor-and-Loki and Thor-and-Freya, until finally Thor arched off the bed and Loki’s mouth swallowed his cry while Freya’s cunt swallowed his seed - and Thor fell between his lovers in a daze while they collapsed on the bed and finished bringing their own releases, and then they all lay there with heaving chests until their sweat had cooled and the tides had receded and they were once again themselves.

“Wow,” Freya said. “That was an improvement.”

“Nnn,” Thor agreed.

“We're all fucked,” Loki said.

***


	2. Chapter 2

Loki woke the next morning with a pounding head and a mouth like a swamp. He still had his boots on, which was strange, until he remembered he'd come back to his rooms in a daze the night before and drunk his way through an entire decanter of brandy. He'd had to; it was the only way he could have fallen asleep after...That. 

This was definitely all Thor's fault. The hangover...the dirty boots in the bed...the fact that Loki now knew exactly what his brother's lips felt like and how perfectly they shaped his name as Thor came…

“Shit,” Loki groaned as his cock gave a half hearted attempt at rallying even through the truly appalling headache and nausea.

“Come back tomorrow,” Freya had said last night as Loki had rushed to dress.

Had Loki said yes to that? He didn't remember. Traitorous brandy, leaving the memory he wasn't sure if he wanted and taking the one that might actually be useful.

He heaved himself out of bed and opened the shutters, hissing and recoiling when the sunlight hit him in the face. Was it possible for sunlight to be spitefully cheerful? It seemed to be early afternoon already. He knew he had a hangover potion around somewhere, but in his zeal to avoid Thor last week he'd rearranged everything and now he couldn't remember where he’d put it.

He was contemplating just sticking an ice pick in his head and being done with it when the hell-crow landed on the windowsill and regarded him with a beady eye. “Quork?” it asked.

“No corn today,” Loki said sourly. “Go haunt someone else. Or are you enjoying this?” The crow bobbed its head and he could swear the damn thing was laughing at him. 

A knock on his door reverberated through his skull until his teeth clattered, and a wave of anger washed over him wherein he hated everything impartially - the door and the dirty sheets and the sun and brandy and himself and his pathetic frail body and the idiot bird and his idiot brother -

“ _Go away Thor_ ,” he snarled, throwing the door open, but his eyes met nothing except the empty wall across the hallway. “Oh,” he said, adjusting his gaze a foot and a half lower, “hello Freya.”

“Good morning, brother dear,” she beamed, more joyfully earnest than Loki could recall ever feeling in his life.

He blinked sluggishly as his anger rearranged itself into...something. He wasn't sure what yet.

“Er, come in, please.”

Freya sailed past him and seated herself on his nicest sofa. “Ooh, is this velvet?” she said, rubbing her hands on it. “I do appreciate a nice velvet. I shall have to ask Thor if he would mind updating our furniture. It is rather…”

“Utilitarian?” Loki said with an upward quirk of his lips. “My brother has lamentable taste. He couldn't tell velvet from sailcloth if his life depended on it.”

Freya laughed. “I have some things for you,” she said, patting the seat beside her. “I come bearing a thank you, a proposition, and a gift.”

“They do say good things come in threes,” Loki said. He seated himself gingerly at the edge of the cushion and tried not to remember the sight of Freya’s mouth on Thor’s cock. He wasn’t very successful.

“First of all, I cannot thank you enough for everything that you have done for Thor and me both. I know that this entire situation is...unorthodox to say the least.”

“Your gratitude is appreciated,” Loki said, “and normally I would encourage you to flatter me at all times and at length, but I have a headache the size of Midgard at the moment and if I have to speak about this particular subject any longer I may actually light myself on fire to get out of it.”

Freya stifled a laugh. “My apologies. You might not like my proposition then. We’d like you to return tonight. There is really only a three day window where the chances of conception are favorable, and tonight is day two. If you could join us just tonight and tomorrow, we would have an entire month to figure out a better solution, assuming I don’t get pregnant on the first try.”

Ok, so she had probably invited him back last night after all. Loki’s stomach did a thing and he wasn’t sure if it was the drink or...best stop that thought right there. “You’re utilitarian yourself, aren’t you?” he said.

“When I need to be. If the answer is yes, our door is open to you tonight. If the answer is no, I’ll see you for breakfast tomorrow and we will speak no more on it. No need to answer now.” She patted his hand and then drew a package from a hidden pocket in her skirts. “Which brings me to my gift,” she said. “Go on, open it.”

Loki unwrapped the parcel and a gleaming feather cloak spilled out. The afternoon light caught each feather and limned it in iridescence.

“Oh my,” he breathed. “This is glorious.”

“I thought you might appreciate it,” Freya grinned. “But that isn’t the best part. When you wear it, it allows you to transform into a bird.”

“Where did you find such a marvel as this?”

“Oh this old thing? I’ve had it for years. Perhaps it can begin to show my gratitude for all you’ve done for us. I know, I’ve said thank you again, please don’t light yourself on fire.”

Loki smiled at her, a true involuntary smile, teeth and all. “Thank you, sister,” he said, the endearment feeling suddenly appropriate.

“I’ll leave you two to it, then,” Freya said as Loki stroked and cooed at his new cloak like it was a newborn babe. “Try not to get into too much trouble.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Loki promised, already mentally running through about fifteen different ways he could abuse this new power before dinner. 

Freya left him with a kiss on the cheek. Loki went to the window. The ill-mannered wretch of a crow was still there.

“Fancy some company?” Loki said.

“CAW!” it screamed, piercing his brain and nearly sending him into the fetal position.

“ _After_ I find that hangover potion,” he winced.

***

The brew, a bath, and some food brought him most of the way back to the land of the living, and the cloak did the rest.

“WOOHOOHOOOO!” he whooped, or would have, but was saved from the utter indignity by his crow vocal cords transforming it into a squawking CAW. The wind whistled through his feathers as he dove and circled, flew in loop de loops, coasted on thermals and beat against headwinds. All the mischief Loki had planned fell away in the sheer joy of flight. The ground flowed away beneath him and the sky opened up endlessly before him and he spiraled into the blue - and for the first time in a long time he felt nothing but unadulterated happiness.

Loki chased his shadow across the hunting park surrounding the palace, all the way to the edge where it turned into forested glen, when suddenly his newly sharp eyes picked out a familiar blonde head of hair.

He lighted on a branch and cocked his head in what he hoped was a sufficiently avian fashion.

Thor was by himself on the riverbank, half naked and sheened with sweat, grunting with effort as he dipped and swung his way through a series of fighting forms. He moved with deadly grace, but Loki had seen Thor practice countless times in countless different ways and he could tell that Thor was barely maintaining control; his breath was slightly too ragged, his punches a hair too wild, his guard a millimeter too lax. The air crackled and hummed with poorly contained electricity and the twisted and blackened stumps of several trees stood in silent reproach.

The spectacle boosted Loki’s already ebullient mood. Not only did he relish in his brother’s heaving glistening chest, but also in the way he was being so obviously affected by current events. It was immensely gratifying to see that Loki was upsetting Thor as much as Thor was upsetting him.

Thor misstepped slightly and let out a bellow of rage and then, horrifyingly, sank down to his knees and started crying. Loki usually enjoyed others’ discomfort, but this was too much. He fluttered over and landed on one of the lightning-blasted stumps and squawked loudly in Thor’s face. Thor swiped at him and Loki hopped sideways and squawked louder.

“I am not fit company at the moment, little friend,” Thor said, turning away, voice watery. “Leave me in peace.”

“Stop blubbering, you great oaf,” Loki said.

Thor looked up, startled, and nearly fell over when he saw Loki sitting nonchalantly on the stump, leaning on one hand, feathered cloak fanned out artfully behind him. Loki knew he made a striking tableau; if it wasn’t worth doing with showmanship, it wasn’t worth doing at all.

“Where - what - I -”

“Very articulate, I’m impressed,” Loki smirked.

“You were a _bird_?”

“Observant too.”

Thor gaped like a fish out of water. “How…?”

“This lovely cloak that your wife gave me this morning. I think you’ve got a real keeper there.”

Thor’s face scrunched up again. “Brother - last night -” he began, but Loki waved his hand to cut him off.

“If it’s gratitude or an apology, I don’t want to hear either one. It was just sex,” he said flatly. “It’s just bodies doing things that bodies do. And, might I add, we never actually did more than kiss. You needn’t get so worked up over it.”

Thor reddened and hid his face in his hands. He really was quite becoming when he flushed and Loki congratulated himself on provoking it once again.

“You’re the one who said we were fucked last night,” Thor pointed out from between his fingers.

“I say a lot of things. I’m trying to comfort you right now, you know.”

“You have an interesting way of going about it,” Thor said with a small smile.

“I’m always interesting,” said Loki. “That’s why you like me so much. Your wife asked me to come back tonight, by the way. And tomorrow too, actually. Do you think I should take her up on it?”

Thor was silent for a moment. “Is sex really all it is?” he said quietly.

“Of course it is,” said Loki, perturbed. “How could it be anything else?”

Thor looked up at him then, and his eyes were burning. Loki swallowed, suddenly uneasy.

“Of course, how could it be?” Thor echoed. His voice sounded strange. Loki wanted to shake him. “Tonight then?”

“Tonight,” Loki agreed. Thor reached for him, but in a swirl of feathers Loki took to the sky and left his brother far below, his face a small pale smudge that tracked Loki across the blue as he winged his way back to the palace.

***

Loki ate dinner alone, and as he chewed he thought, and as he thought he chewed, only he thought so much that he ran out of food and had to start in on his fingernails and _ouch_.

He told himself the same thing he had told Thor. It was just sex. It was just chaos. It was just Loki being Loki. And it was for the good of Asgard, and it helped his brother, and he had gotten at least three favors out of the deal. 

He sold it to himself so convincingly that he almost believed his own lies.

But what it came down to, really, was that he knew that he shouldn’t do this, which was precisely why he was doing it. Let him choose between status quo and chaos, and nine times out of ten he would pick chaos - steal the apples, cut Sif’s hair, provoke the dwarves - fuck his brother…

He filed down the mess he'd made of his nails, freshened his breath, and applied the tiniest bit of kohl to his lash line - just enough to make his eyes appear a trifle more mysterious. His hair gave him pause - he preferred it sleeked back, but if the way Thor had looked at him that other fateful day had been any indication, Loki with his shirt half undone and his hands running messily through his hair, his brother might prefer the purposefully disheveled look. He decided to smooth it like usual and let any mussing occur...naturally. From...activities. His stomach flipped. He couldn't tell whether it was unpleasant or not.

He strode to Thor's room, his steps starting out assured, but growing more faltering as he went. _”Is sex really all it is?”_ Thor said, Loki's memory replacing Thor's quietness with reproach, but thankfully he had no time to examine the thought because everything in his head fled when he turned a corner and laid eyes on Thor's door.

A trembling started up inside him.

Freya greeted him with a kiss on each cheek and her smile was so warm it nearly, but not quite, put him at ease.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” she said, drawing him into the sitting room. 

“Where is Thor?” Loki asked. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Damn, he was skittish as a colt. He willed himself to stillness.

“I’m here,” Thor said from the bedroom. His voice still sounded strange, or maybe Loki was just imagining things. Loki and Freya joined him and the three of them stood in an awkward circle looking at each other. Loki bit his tongue to keep from screaming. Maybe he should just set them all on fire and put them out of their misery.

“Drinks?” Loki said desperately.

He went to the sideboard and gulped down two glasses in as many breaths. By the time he turned around his head was already pleasantly fuzzy. He expected to see Thor and Freya already getting to it, kissing perhaps like last time, so he was surprised that when he turned he was face to face with Thor - Thor, standing inches away from him, shirtless and beautiful, his pupils huge in the low light. Oh.

“Can I…” Thor said hesitantly, reaching towards Loki's mouth. Loki licked his lips and nodded.

They kissed, the first brush of their lips feather-light. Thor’s lips were so soft against his own. They reminded him of flower petals. His arms went around Thor of their own accord, and Thor gathered him in, his longer arms enfolding them completely, and the kiss deepened into something hungrier. Thor made the smallest noise and Loki felt himself begin to unravel from deep in his core, the ribbon that was _him_ spooling out gently and the end of it diminishing into a waving gossamer thread that frayed into nothing in the air. He was being unmade, lost, helpless to resist as Thor kissed his way down Loki’s throat and nosed behind his ear, and then their faces were buried in each other’s necks, and Thor pressed him back against the table, and Loki brought his leg up to wrap around Thor’s waist and for one sweet moment they rocked together, the only two people in the world.

Freya came up then and touched Thor lightly on the arm. Loki started; he'd forgotten completely that she was even there. He felt a small wash of guilt. 

Thor turned to her and dipped to kiss her as well. Loki detested the loss, so he moved behind Thor and molded himself to his back, splaying his hands across Thor’s chest and stomach. He felt Thor’s breath catch. Yes, he thought, mine.

They moved towards the bed, Freya letting her shift fall to the floor, Loki unlacing Thor’s pants from behind and shoving them down for Thor to kick off. Thor turned back to Loki and ran his hands under the hem of Loki’s shirt, up his ribs, brushing his thumbs over Loki’s nipples, and Loki gasped and Thor kissed him again and then pulled his shirt off over his head.

“Is this ok?” Thor murmured, his eyes so blue and so fucking _concerned_. It would be hilarious if it weren't so outrageous, as if asking Loki to his bedroom to use him like a sex toy was a perfectly ordinary request but removing his shirt was just one bridge too far. Loki growled and sucked Thor’s lower lip into his mouth, then grabbed Thor’s hips and pressed their erections together. They both groaned.

“This was never ok,” Loki said hoarsely. 

“I want you to touch me,” Thor said plaintively, helplessly, kissing Loki's cheeks, his eyelids, the corner of his mouth, his lips. Loki felt weak and shaky, like too much of himself had unwound and dissolved and he had nothing left to hold him up. He clutched at Thor's arms and fought to breathe.

Freya had been watching them, lazily stroking herself, and she seemed to sense Loki's discomfiture. She came to them with a gentle hand on each of their shoulders.

“You two are beautiful together,” she said. She cupped Loki's cheek and kissed his forehead, then did the same to Thor with her other hand, before drawing all three of their heads together to share a breath. It felt calming, grounding, and Loki smiled at her gratefully.

“Come,” she said, and tugged Thor over and down to the bed and between her thighs. He kissed down her neck to her collarbone and then her breasts, teasing at one nipple with his mouth and the other with his fingers.

Loki watched them, unsure what to do. In all his long years of bed sport, nothing had prepared him for this. He had never even intended to get physically involved, not even last night - he had thought, naively as it turned out, that his mere presence would be enough - and then madness had overtaken him -

But that had been kissing. And...masturbation.

And this was…

What was this?

Freya hummed happily and reached out for Loki then, beckoning him, tugging on that ribbon of himself that he had so carelessly let come undone.

He moved as if in a dream. He shucked his pants off to kneel behind Thor, running his hands and his lips and his tongue down that broad back, digging his fingers into Thor's hips. He slid his right hand around until he found Thor's cock, silk over steel, and he realized it was the first time he'd ever touched it; it felt perfect in his grasp, like the length and girth of it was made for his hand specifically. Thor inhaled sharply, the muscles of his lower belly tensing.

“Ahhh,” he huffed, bucking slightly into Loki's fist. 

“You wanted me to touch you,” Loki breathed into Thor's ear, and felt him shudder. “Is this what you meant?”

Thor could only moan low in his throat. The sound rumbled down Loki’s ear canals, a physical thing, as intimate as a touch.

Loki dragged the wetness from the tip with his thumb and swirled it around, then stroked once, twice, before lining Thor's cock up with Freya's opening. His other hand still rested on Thor's hip, and he used it to push him gently forward.

Freya drew Thor in with a welcoming moan of her own, and then they were moving together. Loki felt like if he stopped touching Thor he might die, so with self-preservation in mind he draped himself over his brother's strong back, heedless of his weight, knowing Thor's arms could hold him and more, and wasn't that a thrilling thought. He sucked bruises onto Thor's neck, riding his thrusts while he rutted helplessly into the cleft of his ass. 

The sounds the three of them made, gasps and moans, whispered names, the wet slide of lips and tongues, the slap of flesh on flesh, the creak of the bed, all came together in a symphony of release, three different crescendos that built on each other to a swelling climax. 

Loki came first, painting Thor's back with strands of glistening pearls and hiding his tears in Thor's hair.

Thor went next, driving into Freya one last time and holding there, tense as a spring, before collapsing into her neck. If he cried as well, only Freya knew.

Freya was last, Thor's fingers finishing the job he had started, deftly coaxing until she arched off the bed and shouted her pleasure to the ceiling.

Loki lay in a stupor afterwards, brain blessedly blank, mind refusing to process. He was sweaty and dirty, lying in a puddle of spend, his clothes a wrinkled disaster on the floor - all things that would normally set his left eye to twitching and not let him rest until they were righted. He didn't care. He didn't care about any of it.

Thor lay between him and Freya and he clasped both of their hands and brought each of their knuckles up for a kiss.

Loki started giggling and couldn't stop. Wonderful, the hysterics were setting in.

“What?” Thor said suspiciously.

“I just remembered something I said earlier today,” Loki gasped.

“Oh!” Freya said, then she started laughing too. “Good things come in threes,” she explained to Thor's puzzled face.


End file.
